


Brotherly Dynamic

by emetoandotherthings



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Illnesses, M/M, Sick Character, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 08:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18192290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emetoandotherthings/pseuds/emetoandotherthings
Summary: Prompt:  I was wondering if you could write something where Jude starts to feel ill at work (maybe the flu is going round and the kids are dropping like flies) but decides to power through, and when he gets home he's an absolute wreck and Eden takes care of him.Warning: Includes vomiting





	Brotherly Dynamic

            “Are you sure you should be going to school Jude?” Eden asked for the third time as he sipped on his cup of tea.

            “I have to Eden,” Jude sniffed as he pulled his jacket on. “I’m getting observed on Friday and I need to prepare my class.” When Eden had come into the kitchen ten minutes ago he’d instantly noticed the red flush across Jude’s cheeks.

            “But you look like you’re coming down with something,” Eden was concerned; he knew Jude’s tendency to overwork himself until he was run into the ground.

            “I can come down with whatever on Friday night,” Jude said resolutely, “but I need to go now or I’m going to miss my train.”

            Jude knew that Eden was only trying to look out for him, but he actually didn’t have the time to be ill – even though he’d woken up with a heaviness in his head that refused to lift, and a tiredness that seemed to be seeping into his bones.

            He wasn’t quick enough getting on the train to get a seat, so ended standing, his head resting the rail he was clutching on to. He almost felt like he’d made a mistake as he stumbled into his classroom, dropping his bag onto his desk and collapsing into the chair. He felt exhausted already and the kids weren’t even in yet. Only six and a half hours, he told himself, then he’d be able to go home.

            The school bell rang and the kids poured into the class, but his class was depleted with only twenty-three out of thirty-two pupils appearing. Then a note came round from the office to say that five parents of kids in his class had phoned in to report a sickness bug going round. Jude swallowed as he read this, taking a sip of his water. Six hours and twenty minutes left…

            The bell for break had rung and Jude escaped to the staff room, the heaviness had turned into a headache that felt like elephants tap dancing inside it.

            “You’re looking worse for wear.” His colleague and mentor, Scott, said as he sat down with a cup of coffee. “One too many drinks last night?”

            “I had nothing…” Jude said, shaking his head. “I’m just feeling a little under the weather.”

            “God I hope you’re not getting what half the kids’ve got,” Scott wrinkled his nose. “Worse part of working with kids – catching whatever the germ factories have!”

            “I really hope it’s not,” Jude mumbled, “I don’t have time for that.”

            The bell rang to signal the end of break and Jude sighed, looking down at his almost untouched coffee cup – he hadn’t been able to force down anymore of his drink.

            “Back to the grind,” Scott said, nodding as he headed off to his classroom. Four hours and forty-five minutes left… He just wanted that time to be uneventful, and quick. But it wasn’t destined to be.

            Jude set the class task, put the instructions up onto the whiteboard and allowed them to work in their table groups. He was becoming increasingly aware of how dry his throat felt, and how hot the room seemed to be. Then a voice rang out from the low hum.

            “Mr MacPherson!” One of the quieter boys in the class, Mike, had pushed his chair back as his face turned very pale. His hand slapped to his mouth just as his cheeks puffed out.

            “Run – go!” Jude called, his own stomach feeling queasy at the prospect of a kid puking everywhere. Mike moved quicker than Jude had ever seen him, bolting out of the classroom. “Kai, go and check on Mike – take him to the office if he’s been sick.” The rest of the class were much more animated now as a result of this drama. “Alright, settle down.” Jude was taking a few deep breaths to settle himself; he _would_ be okay for the next four hours. Kai appeared back about ten minutes later, announcing:

            “Mrs Henderson says I’ve to take Mike’s stuff to the office for him.” That meant he had been sick and the office lady was sending him home.

            “Okay Kai, get his stuff and take it down, then come straight back.” Jude instructed. As Kai picked up Mike’s bag Jude overheard him say:

            “He puked _everywhere!”_ Jude would have rolled his eyes at the fascination of kids, but his own stomach was swaying inside him.

            “Hurry up Kai,” he forced the words out, taking a drink from his water bottle. Only three hours and forty minutes till he could go home.

            The drama wasn’t over though – just before the lunch bell one of the girls, Jaime, came up to his desk.

            “Mr MacPherson?” She said, her face was sheet white and she had both her arms wrapped around her stomach. “I don’t feel well…”

            “Have you been drinking your water?” He asked, she nodded. “Are you feeling sick?” She nodded again. “I think you should gather your stuff and go along to Mrs Henderson, okay?” She nodded for a third time. “On you go.”

            Lunch couldn’t have come quick enough, and Jude was relieved when the class piled out to the lunch hall. He was feeling a bit shivery now, and the thought of going to the staff room where all his colleagues would be eating lunch made his stomach turn. He put his face into his hands, sighing.

            “Knock knock,” Scott stuck his head round Jude’s classroom door. “I noticed you weren’t in the staff room, thought I’d come and check.”

            “Yeah, I thought I might catch up on some marking,” Jude made the excuse as Scott perched on the edge of his desk.

            “You still feeling rough?”

            “Little bit,” Jude said honestly.

            “I’ve had three of my class sent home cause they’re not feeling well. They’re dropping like flies!” Scott commented. “Was it your class the really pukey kid was from?” Jude found himself swallowing compulsively when Scott mentioned someone being sick.

            “Yeah,” he nodded, taking a drink of his water. “I had to send another girl home too.”

            “Maybe you should go home if you’re not feeling 100%? I can get someone to cover your class?” Scott suggested, but Jude shook his head.

            “I’ll be fine,” Jude assured, “I’m just gonna finish this marking.”

            “Okay,” Scott took that as his dismissal. “I’ll leave you to it.”

            By the time the kids’ came back from lunch Jude was counting the minutes until he could go home. He was constantly repeating that he would be fine, he wasn’t ill; he took slow, deep breaths. But as the afternoon wore on, and he had half an hour of school left, he was definitely nauseous and it was getting worse. He took a sip of his water every two minutes, trying to quell the churning in his stomach, and very aware that he was trembling from head to foot. He couldn’t have been more thankful for the school bell to end the day. Normally he stayed behind and did some work, but now he piled everything into his bag and headed for the train.

            He rested his head against the cool window of the train, closing his eyes. His entire body felt like it was under attack, his shirt was wringing with sweat and his stomach rolling inside him. When he got home he was going to crawl into bed and sleep. Nearly there, he kept repeating as the train slowed at his stop, and he stood up, wobbling on his feet. Someone banged into his shoulder as he got off the train and his stomach gave a lurch, he cut off the heave by taking a deep breath.

            Nearly home, Jude thought desperately, quickening his pace away from the train station. He could feel the nauseous sensation rising up his throat and he hiccupped, aborting another heave as he climbed the stairs to his flat.

            Eden was in the hallway as Jude let the door swing shut behind him.

            “You’re back early,” Eden said, he was carrying a cup of tea in his hand, and his brows furrowed as he looked at Jude. “Are you feeling okay?”

            “I – _uuuuURRRP!”_ Jude opened his mouth to reply, but a retch worked its way up his throat. He dropped his bag with a clatter, clamping his hand across his mouth and running to the toilet, feeling hot liquid rising up his throat. He barely made it before a stream of puke projectile out of his mouth; he was trembling fiercely as his stomach squeezed more vomit up his throat.

            “Oh Jude!” Eden was in the bathroom behind him, he rubbed Jude’s back through his clothes. “Have you been feeling ill all day?”

            “Wasn’t as – _uurp_ –“ He was cut off by another mouthful of sick spilling from his lips. “As bad… Half the kids are – _ulp –_ sick.” He had closed his eyes, his face had gone the colour of off milk; he took a few deep breaths before being struck with another heave, bringing up only a small amount of bile.

            “I need to get you some water,” Eden said, still rubbing Jude’s back as he gagged dryly over the bowl; but Jude shook his head.

            “Stay…” He forced out.

            “I won’t go anywhere, I promise,” Eden reassured.

            “Need to sit down.” Jude murmured.

            “Maybe we should get you to bed?” Eden suggested, but as he did Jude began retching again.

            “Not – _urp –_ finished.” He struggled, but had gone down to his knees to stay steady. Eden knelt behind him, rubbing figures of eight on Jude’s back.

            “It’s okay Jude, you’re gonna be fine.” He murmured gently. When that heave passed he leant back, slumping awkwardly onto Eden – who held him upright, stroking his sweaty fringe away from his sticky forehead. Then very gently he ran his hand up and down Jude’s arm, as he took slow breaths. “You’re alright…”

            “Ede?” Jude’s voice was weak and gravelly when he eventually spoke.

            “Yeah?” Eden asked, looking down at his friend, who still had his eyes closed.

            “I hate kids…” His eyes had snapped open again and he sat back up, leaning over the toilet as another retch hit him.

            “No you don’t…” Eden resumed the gentle rubbing of Jude’s back. “Not really.”


End file.
